Christmas At Thorncliff Towers Read Online Free PDF Page A

Karina gave a tactful reply. “Yes. We’ve been friends since we were children.”
    The maid brushed Karina’s hair so hard her scalp tingled.
    “He’s is a stand-up man, that Constantin.” Gwyneth blushed. “Quite a gentleman for being . . .”
    “. . . a Gypsy?” Karina smiled. “It’s all right to say it.”
    A pause followed. Sounds of hair pins snapping filled the silence.
    “It isn’t my place to tell you this,” the maid continued, “but Miss Brentwood seems to ’ave taken a liking to Constantin. Apparently, she doesn’t know ’er place.”
    Karina watched Gwyneth shake her head disapprovingly. “Does Constantin return Miss Brentwood’s feelings?” she dared ask.
    Gwyneth stopped styling and shrugged. “Women can never read men’s minds.”
    She was right. Not even Karina could do that.
    The maid urged her to stand and take a look in a full-length mirror. The amethyst gown showcased Karina’s creamy bosom and accentuated her slim waist. She cleaned up as attractively as any aristocrat.
    “Ye look beautiful, Miss.” Gwyneth beamed. “If I do say so myself.”
    “Thank you. I’ve never worn anything so fancy.”
    “Now be careful with that cane,” the brunette girl warned. “It belongs to Lady Winthrop’s father, Sir ’arris Farrington. ’E hurt ’is leg in Egypt and though ’e needs the cane most of the time, ’e is lettin’ you borrow it for a few hours.”
    “Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” Karina protested.
    “Lady Winthrop insisted. Now follow me. Ye can ’ave some tea while the nobles eat their supper. We servants eat later.”
    Karina nodded. Before she followed Gwyneth to the first floor, she eyed the dirty dress she’d arrived in. Alongside her satchel, it lay on the bed, the vial still hidden safely inside its bodice.
    On the way to the kitchen, Karina and the lady’s maid passed an alcove that opened into the massive dining room. Karina took a peek inside and sucked in a breath. A high, vaulted ceiling canopied a stunning, mahogany dining table. Incredibly long, the table shimmered with crystal glasses, towering candlesticks, and polished flatware.
    What made Karina gasp more than the table was the sight of Constantin engaged in a stolen conversation with Lydia Brentwood in another alcove off the dining room. As they huddled together, he had one hand pressed to the wainscoting behind the governess’s head. Leaning forward, Miss Brentwood twittered and giggled like a bleating sheep.
    Catching her first name in their conversation, Karina’s cheeks heated. She jerked her stare away. Pay them no mind. You have no right to be jealous.
    She entered the warm kitchen. Constantin still despises me . After dinner she would fetch the vial and get him to drink the elixir it contained. Only then could they leave this place together.
    Unfortunately, there was a snag in her plan. The elixir’s power would dissipate in a few hours’ time.
     
     
    Supper with the servants was an uneventful affair. As Karina ate, she tried not to wolf her food down. She also tried to push the image of Constantin pressed against Lydia Brentwood from her mind. When he’d whisked Karina down the knoll to the house, the feel of his corded muscles and broad chest had enticed her. Excited her. She closed her eyes and pictured them lying together—his muscled pelvis wedged between her legs.
    In her daydream, he traced his hand over the curve of her hips up to her breasts. Then he laid her back and stroked her with his expert hands, readying her for—
    “Miss Petri?” Mrs. Tidwell’s voice cut the lustful vision short. “Are you feeling faint?”
    “I . . . I’m fine,” Karina stammered.
    Good lord. Her isolated life was taking its toll. In her defense, there were no men at camp she could flirt with—or even talk to. That’s why she was desperate for a man’s touch. Starved for Constantin’s touch.
    Mounds of gooseberry jam, buttered bread, succulent goose, and sweet wine disappeared from